


Sweet Flowers

by LuciaWilt



Series: By The Edge [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst and Porn, Drugs, F/M, First Time, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 06:50:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18191180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuciaWilt/pseuds/LuciaWilt
Summary: The Mountain Laurel grew in the early summer, Hashirama knew that.





	Sweet Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> ok so I'm kind of bending biological fact here. The Texas Mountain Laurel of course would not grow in the region Madara and Hashirama are from; that much is pretty obvious. However it's totally my favorite plant and it is true, it is halluciongenic. However it's also super fucking poisonous haha. Also I changed something's around. She killed Tajima and that gave her the mangekyo.

Madara could still remember the first time she and Hashirama had sex. Both of them had just turned twenty; and both of them had just taken over their respective clans. Of course people were less than happy that Madara was the head of hers, but they could not deny her abilities. Once they saw her fight, they fell in line. It was the same for Hashirama; though he ran into less dissent to his appointment. 

Perhaps worst of all, the tension between their families was at an all time high. It was so obvious that both clans were dead tired of the fighting; but it was also obvious both the clans did not want to be the first to back down. That’s why it was one skirmish after another. Madara’s people would come back battered and bruised and Hashirama’s men did not fair much better. 

Yet somehow, some way, both she and Hashirama still found time to meet up at their spot by the river. It helped that it was in the middle of summer. Everyone was sort of expected to be outside, going inside a structure far too hot and humid. No one would question her going missing for a few hours. 

He was already there when she arrived. Hashirama was seated on the ground where he had sprouted grass and flowers right by the river bank so he was not sitting on gravel and rocks when he put his feet in the water. He was leaning back on his elbows, watching the clouds drift by. Something she noted was his clothing. It was all lighter, both in material and color, during this time of year. His pants were rolled up to rest right underneath his knees and it was honestly similar to how she was dress. Though of course an Uchiha like her would not be caught dead in clothing that was pale brown. 

Hashirama finally noticed her when she walked closer, her feet finally stepping upon the grass he had grown. When he turned, there was a giant smile on his face and it made her sick; made her stomach twist. Why. Why was he always so kind? Herm mind could not take the contradictions half the time.

It was clear he could both smell and see the changes in her physiological appearance as well as her physical appearance. The smile faltered before falling completely and he stood. “Are you alright?” She knew her face would be flushed, knew her pupils were dilated. Aside from that, no one could tell she had drunk her “special” tea before coming. Neither of them were stupid, especially not Hashirama. He knew the Uchiha would often partake in mind altering substances; were very open to it in fact. One could say the Uchiha were far more free willed and permissive than the Senju. It just always bothered him when she showed up under the influence of something. Yet, Hashirama knew how much she loved her tobacco pipe; knew that it was almost a crutch for her when things were not going her way. He would never tell her to stop doing something unless it was destroying her health. 

“I see the Mountain Laurels have been blooming.” He said, telling her he knew of her drinking that tea without coming out right and saying it. Either way it was quite obvious. The actual physical plants that produced the materials for that tea were everywhere, blanketing everything in that earthy yet fruity smell; the purple flowers hanging down from the bushes like hair ornaments. 

She is a grown women, he tried to keep telling himself as she frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. From where he was standing, he could see her sweating, drops dripping down the side of her face. She rolled her head on her shoulders before near leveling him with a glare. “Yes they have been.” She smelt decadently of those flowers and as much as he hated her losing control of her senses like that, there were a few things he could forgive; such as her actually trusting him enough to let her guard down around him. 

There was a brief moment of silence, the two of them just staring out onto the water. Hashirama felt his chakra dripping from the bottom of his feet, forming into trees beneath the ground that bloomed far faster than any natural fauna wood. She did not seem all that bothered when their little spot by the river was suddenly canopied by a heavy layer of trees, giving the two of them a clear boundary of privacy. 

He watched, Madara rubbing the bridge of her nose once the sun was no longer beating down upon her pale skin. Perhaps the flush he had seen was just her nose being burnt from exposure. Surely freckles would follow. “We are running out of food.” She started and snapped him out of his thoughts. 

They were running out of food, the Uchiha, and Hashirama was not even close to being done with the ceasefire agreement. Would she even agree to said proposal? He could not exactly blame Izuna, but Madara’s younger brother was clearly whispering words of poison into her ear. She wanted to stop the fighting, he could tell that much. 

Hashirama tested the waters, taking a step closer in the now shaded area. Madara did not seem to notice as she continued. “Each night I make sure that Izuna is eating as much as he can.” Izuna and Tobirama were the same age, just having turned 16 to Madara and Hashirama’s 20. “Sometimes I go days without a single bite of food.” 

Now that was both surprising and extremely concerning. Hashirama knew the Uchiha were struggling with food for quite some time, really since before Tajima’s death. But to be in this bad of shape? His eyes trailed down her body, noting how baggy the short sleeved shirt she was wearing truly seemed. Her breathing hastened as she turned away from him, quite clearly disturbed about it all. 

It was the time. He needed to finish that ceasefire as fast as he possibly could. If he could stop her from suffering he would do that. “I’m so sorry that has been happening Madara.” 

Before he could whisper another word she spun around, her eyes wild and activated. At first the normal Sharingan was formed, the three tomoe spinning wildly; something he only had ever seen on the battlefield. But that did not last long. He took a step back in shock and minute fear upon the rapid change in her eyes that occurred. It spun and spun and a detailed pattern formed in her eyes. “Maybe you are the one that has been sabotaging the Uchiha! You put on the fine face and polite front when in reality all you want to do is destroy me and my family; me and my people!” She screamed and Hashirama knew he needed to diffuse the situation. Madara groaned in agony as she grabbed the side of her head, turning away from him again. 

“I don’t want that to be true but it’s the only explanation. It’s the only one!” She was gasping. Hashirama sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of tears streaming from her eyes. “I don’t have anyone else. I don’t want it to be true.” She was muttering under her breath so he did not catch every little thing, but Hashirama got the picture. It was true after all. Outside of Izuna and herself, every member of the head family had been killed. Without Izuna, she would have no one. Yes she would have her clan, but that was different than those directly related to you. Hashirama knew what he needed to do, but did not know if she would let him in the emotional state she was in. 

He took the chance, knowing he could subdue her if she went for his throat as she was prone to do. 

He took a hesitant step forwards, then another and then another. Finally he was right beside her and she was still sobbing, heaving; closer to vomiting than not. It just absolutely destroyed him. He knew long ago that he loved this woman but in those moments as he watched her shatter before him, Hashirama’s convictions about his feelings were only confirmed. Yes he loved this woman to the moon and back. Building up the courage he reached out to grab her shoulder; but it seemed as though she was more aware of her surroundings than he first suspected. 

Suddenly his back was against one of the larger trees he had grown. Her hands shook violently, resting against his shoulders with no real force behind them; after all she was still sobbing with those wild looking eyes he had never seen before now. “Please.” Hashirama would have blinked in surprise if the time was right. Had he ever heard Madara speak in such a tone? It was a whisper in her deeper voice; a pleading beg. 

He took control of the moment knowing she was hurting far too much, her mind too fogged over by agony and confusion. Hashirama moved his own hands so they were resting against her ribs that were in fact near sticking out from her skin. As gently as he could, he turned the two of them so she was resting against the tree. Anger still resonated in her body, that much was for certain. But he did something, something that was clearly his body taking over for him. 

Hashirama leaned down, cupped her tear stained face, and planted a heady kiss to her lips. The response on her part was immediate. She bit his lips and punched at his chest; though once again if she was truly trying to punch him, her fist would be moving at a far higher speed. 

Their lips barely parted. “I hate you so much.” She whispered, voice still wet from her sobbing. 

Hashirama kissed her cheeks, kissed her eyelids and her nose; before finally leaning down to her lips once again. “I know.” 

After the second kiss, all the tension left her body like she was letting out a breath she had been holding for years. “I hate you so much.” Madara repeated and he gave her the same answer from before. 

“I know.” Hashirama felt the smallest bit of pride when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and deepened the kiss they were sharing. Again and again, the softest sounds of their kissing echoed against the trees around them. One of the hands that had been cupping her cheek moved to grip at the back of her neck. The other one reached down and grabbed right underneath her ass; he felt the boniness of her legs and extremities. Of course traditionally, the head of the clan would take a wife that was rounder, ready to bear children for him and continue the bloodline. But the thought of anyone beside her…he just could not imagine spending the rest of his life not by her side. 

Even as she bit at his neck so hard she drew blood. The hand that had been grabbing at her neck moved so it matched its twin on her leg. The chakra around them shimmered, the trees shifting and moving as she sucked on his neck and collarbone. 

He would happily admit it was because he had always wanted to do this, be sexual, with Madara. And while it was not the best situation for their first time, beggars could not be choosers. He would do anything, anywhere, with this woman. 

Finally she moved up again and pressed her lips to his. They kissed and kissed for what seemed like hours when he finally allowed one of her feet to touch the ground. Doing that gave him the opportunity to hesitantly, and slowly, move his hand into her pants. She did not stop him even as he felt her pussy which was already wet. He could tamp down the pride and the puffing of his chest he felt for now. 

She let out a sound that went straight to his own dick and he could not help but lick at her own exposed neck as she dropped her head back against the bark of the tree. “Fuck.” Madara gasped as his fingers quickened inside of her. He drew it out, he knew that much. Shinobi of their caliber did not really need all that much prepping. She could take the pain; they were both well aware of that. But that did not mean he would make her bleed like most men would.

It was clear that she liked it as well, even though neither of them had shed a single layer of clothing. Her arms were now tight around his shoulders as she moaned wetly into his ear; hot puffs of her breath hitting his neck right along side it. He felt her dripping onto his hand when he finally decided she was ready. 

And just like the sweltering summer air around them, their fucking was hot and heady. And fucking was what it was. She was biting and scratching her fingernails down his back. While he would have preferred otherwise, he knew the bark was digging into her own back as he fucked into her, bouncing her on his cock. But to get to hear those growls, moans, and those whimpers tumbling form her lips. He could not get enough. 

Somehow though he was able to not whisper those three little words he so desperately wanted to. Hashirama bit his lip hard enough to make it bleed as he came, Madara doing so right after him. 

Quiet enveloped the two of them, only the sound of their panting breathes and the birds chirping outside of the tree privacy curtain Hashirama formed could be heard. “Madara.” He finally found it in him to say. He shifted so both her feet were on the ground, watching as she quietly fixed her pants; fixed the rest of her appearance. There was a pause after she was done, perhaps a bit of hesitation. 

Whatever it was passed and before he could say another word to her, she was gone. 


End file.
